


Ocean Eyes

by multishiphellqueen



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Canadian spelling, Jazz AU, M/M, Relationship(s), Shaladin - Freeform, shance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-08 18:20:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12259608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multishiphellqueen/pseuds/multishiphellqueen
Summary: Lance has always been a great singer. He knows it too. He's been the frontman for a jazz troupe for four years now. He's a sophomore in college, away from everything he's ever known but his music, and his band. He's the leader of something for once, he's the top dog, the centre of attention, he's in control. Until he isn't anymore. A run in with some good old fashioned violent crime sends him spiraling, forcing him to abandon every moral he has.Shiro, a retired trumpet player, and now amputee is just getting his life back on track. He's happy again. Until he meets Lance. The boy has so many issues, so why is it that Shiro can't help but want to fix him.But can anyone really help Lance but himself?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters may be a little late, and short, but other than that enjoy!

Lance always knew he had an affinity for music, especially when it came to vocals. That's why he had been roped into a jazz troupe with his friends, it was only meant to be temporary as their frontman had laryngitis for a bit, but he quit soon thereafter.   
He loved performing for crowds, always charming the ladies and gentlemen, he knew he was a favorite and relished in the attention it brought him. Being the youngest at a time when his brother and sisters were having kids made them the focus, so he was the babysitter.  
When he was on stage though? He was always the center of attention. Even amidst the fantastic playing by his friends, he stood out as the most noticeable. Shows were his happy place, and he always made sure to be in top shape for them, even if it was just a shabby jazz club a few blocks from his university.  
This show was another one at their regular club, Altea Jazz Lounge. Their cellist, Allura, was the daughter of the late owner, Alfor Altea who had allowed the students to play when they were still high school juniors. Not many people came, but they still headlined even after four years. Altea Jazz Lounge was taken over by Allura’s uncle, Coran. He was a former music teacher that had taught Lance and his best friend Hunk, their resident saxophonist, in grade four. As a result, he was extremely reluctant to make them stop playing, so on they went.   
Pidge, formerly Katie Holt, was their drummer, and although they were a genius, they took a bit longer to get the songs, even if they were the composer most of the time. Finally was Keith, their reluctant bassist. He was part of a rock group in high school and joined them in college, after much bribery by Allura and Pidge. Keith and Lance liked to show each other up and seemed to dislike each other, but they were fairly close behind closed doors.   
They were a close-knit group and helped each other through hard times, of which there were plenty. Between Keith’s and Allura’s lack of parents, Hunk’s parents not speaking English, Pidge’s ambiguous gender identity, they all needed an outlet, which for them was jazz.  
Lance helped wipe down a few tables after the show, a small one once again, but still rewarding. He always felt much better when the spotlight was on him, even if it was rather warm.   
“Need a hand Allura?” he asked while dropping the rag into the bucket Coran was about to take to laundry.  
“I'm fine Lance, I've been carrying this thing since I was twelve,” she said absent-mindedly while latching the case closed, “I think I'm okay.”   
Even knowing the answer Lance always made sure to ask, just in case. He liked to take care of others.  
“Come on Hunk, we gotta go. Midterm tomorrow,” Pidge called impatiently from the front door.   
“Alright, see you guys on Saturday,” Hunk said, flashing a bright smile before disappearing through the glass door. Soon Allura and Keith left, leaving Lance and Coran.  
“I should leave too, I'll see you soon Uncle Coran!” Lance called giving him a half hug and slipping out of the store as Coran bade farewell.  
Lance walked along the Boulevard, hands shoved into his jeans, eyes up, staring at the moon. He decided a detour was in order and decided to turn instead of going straight. He had no clue where he was going, only that the rival club, the Grand Galra was this way.  
He ducked into a quiet street, which was populated by polished homes. He didn't hear the footsteps behind him, not until there was a knife to his throat.  
“Not a single sound or I will hurt you,” a low voice growled. Lance nodded.  
“Your wallet,” the voice told him. Lance slowly reached for his wallet, obeying the commands. He handed it to him and waited for the knife to leave his neck.  
“Worthless. All of it. I should kill you right here.”   
Lance drew in a breath. He was going to die now. Nobody around. He honestly regretted not calling his parents more often now. Too late.  
Next thing he knew the attacker was slumped over him, the sudden weight knocking him to the ground, only to be caught by strong steady arms.  
“You okay?” a new voice asked. Lance tensed and scrambled up, knocking his arm and scraping his knee.   
“Hey now, I'm not here to hurt you, I promise,” the voice soothed. The figure kneeled by him and helped him up.  
“I'm gonna call the cops if that's alright. We can wait here until you're safe, then we'll get you cleaned up,” they said, taking Lance's hands into their own.  
So they did. Lance’s saviour called the police and waited with him. Once the culprit was in custody the two stood.  
“The name is Shiro, and you?” the person, now revealed to be quite a handsome man, who seemed to have a prosthetic arm, said kindly, walking Lance a few houses down to a house with a fenced yard.  
“Lance. Thank you, I owe you my life for what you did back there Shiro,” he answered shakily.  
Shiro opened the gate as a big, rather fluffy dog trotted up. He pet the dog briefly and walked to the door, letting both Lance and the dog in.  
“Sit on the couch there, I'll grab the first aid kit,” he said, wincing at how much blood was actually trickling down Lance’s leg  
Lance looked around him, the house was cozy, small and very cluttered, he took note of the piano, the trumpet case, and all the music books.  
“Got it!” he exclaimed, holding the small red box over his head. “so, care to tell me why you're out and about at this time at night?”  
“I play in a jazz troupe, we have weekly shows at Altea Jazz Lounge,” Lance explained, trying not to wince as the rubbing alcohol was rubbed on his leg.   
“Nice, what do you play?”   
“I'm vocals, but I play the violin and a tiny bit of piano,” Lance replied. He held down the bandage Shiro gave him, while he taped it.  
“All done with that now, let's move on to your hand,” he said under his breath.   
“After this, you should call your parents. They’d want to know,” he added, wrapping Lance’s hand with a bandage. Lance nodded and reached for his phone in his pocket. Shiro went to leave with the box, but Lance grabbed his hand.  
“Stay? Please? My mama is gonna flip when she hears.” Lance asked. Shiro nodded and sat back down beside Lance, petting his dog absent-mindedly.   
Lance dialed the number and shifted closer to Shiro, leaning gently onto his chest. Shiro wasn't about to complain, however, with how worried Lance looked.  
“Mama? Yes, listen, mama, I ran into some trouble after my show…...Mama no! No! Not that, I was, mugged?” he looked at Shiro to check, which he replied to with a nod.   
“Yes Mama, I'm okay, a nice man came and helped me out…..no no, mama, please I'm fine, there's no need to wake dad up, just sleep, you can come down tomorrow. Alright, I know, love you!” Lance said, and hung up, sighing and leaning closer to Shiro.   
“I gotta go back to my dorm,” he said after a while, getting up.  
“Let me drive you, I don't want you going home alone,” Shiro said following him and grabbing his keys from the hook by his door.   
“No, I'm fine Shiro, I'll be alright,” he protested.  
“Please? I want to make sure you get home safe,”   
“Alright, but I owe you,” he sighed. They walked out to Shiro’s car and got in. They drove in silence the entire way, Lance just looking out the window at the city lights, and faraway mountains lining the horizon, which was illuminated by the city.  
Shiro pulled up to the dorm entrance and walked Lance to his floor.  
“I think I've got it from here now Shiro,” Lance said fondly. He replied with a nod.  
“Stay safe man, don't want to have to rescue you a second time,” Shiro taunted, Lance only rolling his eyes in response.  
“Goodnight,” he called after Shiro’s retreating figure. He walked down the hall, stopping in front of Hunk and Keith’s room, and hesitating before knocking.   
Hunk answered the door, Keith presumably knocked out cold. Hunk yawned and looked at him for a second before moving out of the doorframe, inviting him in.  
“I have so much to tell you, man,”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short filler chapter, before the plot starts to pick up.

“Holy, man that's a lot to process.” Hunk said baffled. Lance had told him the story over some hot chocolate.   
“That's why I was wondering if I could sleep here tonight. I'll take the floor between your and Keith's bed.” Lance asked, pleading for Hunk to let him.   
“Of course man.”   
“Thank you, I wasn't ready to spend the night alone yet. My mama and pops are coming tomorrow too, so I'm hoping you can persuade them I'm alright with that parent wooing magic of yours.” Lance babbled. Hunk nodded and helped Lance gather some blankets and pillows, then pile them into a nest between Hunk’s bed and Keith’s bed.   
The two lay down, and Hunk waited for Lance to start snoring quietly before he closed his eyes.  
When Keith woke, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, swinging his legs off the bed. He looked around and when he went to look at the time he spotted Lance, curled up on their hardwood floor.  
“Hunk!” He said quietly. The larger man groaned and shifted. “Hunk! Hunk!” He called, increasing his volume and throwing a pillow at his roommate for good measure.  
“What?” The other asked throwing the pillow back, and reluctantly sitting up.  
“What the fuck is Lance doing on our floor?” Keith said, feigning anger. He wasn't actually mad, he just hadn't taken his meds and was very confused.  
“He had a rough night, so I let him sleep here.” Hunk answered grabbing his glasses on the nightstand.   
“What happened? He only ever sleeps here if it's serious.”   
“Uh, that's uh, that's not my place to say. It was bad, but that's about all I can say right now.” Hunk answered.  
“Shit,” Keith replied, tiptoeing past him to the small closet. He closes the closet door to get changed in the tiny space. He ended up hitting his hand and leg against the sliding door, which also functioned as a mirror. By the time he came out Lance was sitting up groggily, stretching to presumably get rid of the knots in his back.  
“Hey, Keith.” He said standing and stretching his legs. Immediately regretting it he sat back down gritting his teeth and holding his calf.  
“Muscle cramp?” Keith and Hunk asked in unison. Lance only nodded in response, waiting for it to pass.   
“So, Hunk tells me you had an adventure last night. Care to explain what it was so I know why I almost tripped over you this morning?” He asked, leaning against his desk with a small smile.  
“I uh, I don't wanna talk about it,” Lance said.  
“Wait, it must be bad, you always wanna talk about things. Always.” Keith replied, staring open-mouthed at Lance.  
“It was” Hunk added. The look on both of their faces told him not to push it, and as socially dense as he was he could definitely see that. He nodded and proceeded to get ready.   
“Going for a jog, I'll be a teeny bit late for practice, don't wait up,” he said slipping on his shoes and out the door.  
“I should go get dressed too, and get a spot treatment ASAP,” Lance said, getting up and putting his shoes on.  
“See you at practice”  
Lance walked to his dorm, and let himself in. Sighing, he slid down the closed door to the ground and buried his head in his hands. He knew he should talk to someone about it but at the same time, he really didn't want to drag anyone else in.  
He stood and got ready, grabbing some spot treatment for the small acne spots already forming, and putting on fresh clothes. He went to the bathroom down the hall and brushed his teeth, then made sure that the bruises weren't so noticeable, and the other wounds weren't infected. His mom was already gonna flip, but if it was much worse she'd probably kill the guy that did it.  
He got back to his dorm, just as his parents were knocking at the door.  
“Mama!” Lance called, jogging towards the pair. His mom wrapped him in a rib-crushing hug. For a small lady, she was quite strong. Lance’s dad even hugged him, though not as strongly as his mother did, Lance still knew how worried he had been.  
“You ever scare me like that again you are not allowed to ever leave the house again,” his mother said whacking him lightly. He smiled fondly at her.  
“I know mama” he answered hugging her again. “I know” he whispered.


End file.
